


Cold, Hot, Wet Cats.

by firefrog



Category: Cats - Andrew Lloyd Webber, Old Possum's Book of Practical Cats - T. S. Eliot
Genre: Australian spelling, Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-25
Updated: 2017-01-25
Packaged: 2018-09-19 21:50:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9461732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/firefrog/pseuds/firefrog
Summary: Some cats like one sort of weather, some cats like another. Can these Jellicle cats get along anyway?





	

Mister Mistoffelees huddled by the fireplace, willing his humans home so that they would light the fire and end his shivering. It was very inconvenient of them to allow the fire to have gone out, just when he had performed a great deal of magic and couldn’t generate a heat-source for himself.

Humans were selfish, he thought unreasonably. Selfish and unthinking and … “Aaaagh!”

Mistoffelees shrieked and spun around to glare into the laughing eyes of the Rum Tum Tugger.

“What’s up _Glitter Bomb_ , my paws a bit cold for you?” the rascally cat smirked.

His paws had been pushed into a snowdrift for the last couple of minutes – they had gone numb, but it was worth it to get that reaction when he slapped them down on his house mates rump.

“Your paws are like ice blocks – what have you been doing, juggling snowballs for the kits again?" Mistoffelees demanded huffily. "You are shameless, Tugger.”

“And that’s the way you like me. Now shove over, the humans are here and I want some of that fire action too.” The bigger cat hip shoved the smaller one and lay by his side. Mistoffelees retaliated by leaning in against him and stealing as much warmth from the other cats shaggy fur as he could. 

Winter could not be over soon enough for him.

-*-*-

In the bowels of the house, lying flat against the pantries cool tiled floor, Tugger re thought his life choices. At any point he could have boarded a train with Skimbleshanks and gone to live in Scotland.

Lovely, cold Scotland.

But no, he was here, in the sweltering warmth of an English summer, the heat pressing down on him like a physical weight. Life couldn’t get worse than this.

“Hi Tugger,” Mistoffelees sang brightly, coming over to lay his hot little self on top of the older cat. He had been sun baking in the garden, his black pelt was radiating warmth and he felt a delicious sense of well-being that he suddenly felt compelled to share.

“Ger off,” the other cat muttered, giving a half-hearted shrug in an attempt to dislodge the interloper. Mistoffelees stayed where he was. In fact, he snuggled a bit closer.

“You should come outside – the sun has been hidden by low riding clouds. Big, puffy clouds that are tumbling across the sky like fighting puppies.”

“Is it cooler?” Tugger asked with a hint of interest.

“No, but there isn’t as much glare.” Mistoffelees rubbed his head alongside his housemates head then rolled off him. Tugger gave a grateful grunt and Misto smirked at him. Such an eloquent fellow he was being today.

Taking pity on his extra furry friend Mister Mistoffelees used a little of his magic and the temperature of the pantry lowered. Hmm, Tugger still looked like a deflated hairy beach ball. Well now, it seemed he had himself a captive audience.

“Hey, have I ever told you about the time I challenged Tumblebrutus to a rolling match?”

“Yes,” Tugger said quickly, but it was too late – he could see that Mistoffelees was in the mood for talking, and there was no escape. 

How he loathed the summer time.

-*-*-

Both Mister Mistoffelees and the Rum Tum Tugger huddled grumpily together in the mud-room of their family home. They had been banished there due to having muddy paws, but as Mistoffelees had pointed out, it was only because their humans were too stingy to buy one of those indoor litter trays for them, making outdoor travel a necessity. 

Outdoors, where the rain fell with a monotonous _shhh_. This made Mistoffelees particularly unhappy as his tummy indicated that soon he would have to travel outside once more. He vowed never to eat mole again, no matter how much fun it had been chasing the creature down. 

As he was sadly contemplating the cat flap through which he would have to exit the nice dry room, it suddenly flew open and Admetus popped his soaking wet head inside. “Want to come play in the rain?” he asked merrily.

The Rum Tum Tugger screeched and Mister Mistoffelees hissed in outrage.

“That’s a no then?” Admetus chirped. The others glared at him and with a shrug he withdrew back into the garden. He chased the bigger raindrops as they fell off the side of the roof, then went to play in the puddles.

He loved the rain, it was just a shame he was the only water loving cat in the tribe. Spring showers, Autumn deluges – it was the rainy seasons he loved the best, and he always would.

-*-*-

**Author's Note:**

> Written because it is 40 degrees outside on this Australia Day. I am pleasantly cool in the swimming pool - but my drink is miles away across the hot pavement in the esky full of cold, cold ice. 
> 
> By the time I unearth my drink my hands will be frozen and my feet burnt. 
> 
> P.S. my head cannon says that Cats is set in a no time land - where there are no microwaves or cell phones, and things like kitty litter are newfangled fads that only the rich houses have. But there are cat flaps and motor cars, and trains.


End file.
